


Motivation

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Chastity Device, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:27:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29206596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Ignis keeps everyone on task.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia, Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia, Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 12
Kudos: 57





	Motivation

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The first four attempts don’t sound anything like Noctis, but the fifth sounds a little _too_ much like him—the sixth version is what Ignis ultimately decides on. He reads through the pre-written speech for a third time, making notes where Noctis should emphasize certain points or add poignant pauses or even little laughs. It’s the small things that make the royal family approachable, though they also must appear professional, and in this case, caring—the charity auction should go a long way towards Noctis’ approval rating. He may not care about it now, but he’ll need to pay attention to such statistics when he eventually takes office, and Ignis will be there every step of the way to ensure the transition is a smooth one.

He’s just printing out the final version when a knock sounds on his door, which is both welcome and not—even though it’s _technically_ his day off, one where he hasn’t had to visit the Citadel or drive Noctis anywhere, he’s spent the whole thing in preparation for next month’s event. He’s tired himself out without moving at all, and his rear end is particularly sore from sitting in the same place for hours. That means he shouldn’t allow it to undergo anymore abuse, and he shouldn’t be grateful that Gladiolus has evidently seen fit to drop by—no one else ever visit him unannounced. A part of him is thoroughly looking forward to the hulking beast of a royal shield inevitably tossing him against the nearest wall and fucking his brains out, but the rest of him knows he still has the guest list and seating arrangements to go over. He’ll have to begrudgingly reschedule whatever delicious affair Gladiolus has in mind. 

He answers the door with rejection on his tongue, only to open it wide and find his crown prince standing there, with wild eyes and out of breath like he’s been running. 

Ignis’ brow furrows. “Noct. How did you—”

“Bus,” Noctis chirps before Ignis can even finish the question, because he knows as well as Ignis does that he’s supposed to wait for his driver and escort—usually Ignis—to take him anywhere. Ignis instantly frowns. 

“You know perfectly well you’re not supposed to take public transportation. As much as we emphasis the green initiative in council meetings, in your case, security must come f—”

“Too late, already did it.” And he thrusts his arm out so fast that his knuckles brush Ignis’ stomach. Ignis glances down to see a grip of loose paper clutched tightly in his hand. Tentatively taking it, Ignis flips through the bundle. “I finished all of it, even that stupid survey on royal spending. Key now?”

“Hm.” Everything looks in order. It’s all filled out. For once in his life, Noctis _filled out all his paperwork._ Ignis notes, “It seems putting a chastity device on Prompto has proven an excellent tactic.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Noctis rushes, evidently in too much of a hurry to even contest the arrangement like he did at first. He gave Ignis hell for it, even after Prompto sheepishly admitted an interest in the idea and agreed to give Ignis sole possession of the only key. “Gimme. Key. Now.” 

On the other hand, the desperation seems to have sunk Noctis down to caveman intelligence. Ignis reaches into his pocket, and Noctis’ face lights up before sinking when he sees it’s only Ignis’ car keys. “I’ll fetch my coat.”

“You don’t need to drive, I can—”

“I’ll drive you,” Ignis insists. “And I’ll be the one to unfasten the lock. I can’t simply hand over the key, Noct. We both know you’ll never give it back.”

Noctis groans. He probably would’ve taken it to get a copy made if left unsupervised. Then again, given how jumpy he is, he might not be able to wait. Ignis is probably giving him too much credit. He would’ve just gone straight to Prompto’s place and engaged in wild animal sex all night like Gladiolus after glaive training. 

Then Ignis would’ve had to show up, go full dom mode, coax the two lovebirds into returning the key, and it would all repeat the next time Noctis got horny. Which probably wouldn’t be long. 

Noctis makes a grumbling noise as Ignis retreats back into his apartment in search of a suitable jacket. He throws over his shoulder, “Oh, hush. You know he finds it more exciting with my supervision anyway.”

“Whatever, just... hurry up.”

Ignis lets the rudeness slide, because he knows it’s difficult to be polite when sporting a stiffy. Noctis _definitely_ can’t be seen on public transportation at the moment. 

Slipping into a warm jacket, Ignis returns. His eyes fall across the freshly printed out speech on his desk, and he knows he really should come right back. 

On the other hand, Gladiolus does love to hear all about Ignis exerting control over their bratty prince and bubbly photographer, so maybe he’ll make a quick side trip on the way and collect the whole gang. He can feel the key burning a hole in his pocket and walks briskly out of the building, _almost_ fast enough for Noctis.


End file.
